Page 10 of Fractured Faceoff

"That's what I said." I shook my head, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on me. "I walked in on them tonight…" My voice trailed off, unable to fully convey the horror of what I'd seen. "It was terrible, Autumn. Now that's going to be burned into my skull. And I left good Chinese food there."

She frowned, her expression softening with sympathy. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "Need a place to stay?"

I looked at her, feeling a mix of gratitude and hesitation. "I couldn't?—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupted firmly. "Ever since me and Rowan…"

"Rowan?" I furrowed my brow, trying to piece it together. "Oh, my gosh. The hockey player is Rowan Blackwell?"

"You didn't know?" Autumn seemed genuinely surprised.

"I don't think you told me," I pointed out.

"Oh, well…" She nodded slowly. "Technically, I was his student… We weren't supposed to be dating, but…"

"But?" I prompted.

"It doesn't matter," she said quickly, brushing it off with a wave of her hand. "He left."

"Men are assholes," I muttered.

"Too bad we need them," Autumn replied with a rueful smile.

I sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the night settle over me like a heavy blanket. "Another shot?"

"Make it two," she said.

We raised our glasses again, sharing a moment of silent solidarity before letting the burn take us away from our troubles—if only for a little while.

The blaringsound of my phone alarm sliced through the fog of sleep, yanking me into the harsh reality of morning. My head throbbed, each pulse sending sharp pangs through my skull. I groaned and fumbled for the phone, knocking it off the coffee table in my clumsy attempt to silence it.

I sat up slowly, the room spinning slightly as I did. The taste of stale tequila clung to my tongue, and my mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. The dim light filtering through the curtains only worsened the pounding in my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping to will away the hangover that gripped me so tightly.

As I opened my eyes again, the events of last night came crashing back with brutal clarity. It wasn't a dream. Brody had cheated on me with Kristen. The image of them together—tangled limbs and breathless whispers—flashed before my eyes, and I felt a fresh wave of nausea wash over me.

My eyes stung, tears welling up despite my best efforts to hold them back. My heart ached, a deep, gnawing pain that seemed to radiate through my entirebeing. I glanced at my phone, half-hoping to see a message from Brody, an explanation or an apology—anything to show he cared even a little.

But there was nothing. No missed calls, no texts. He hadn't reached out at all.

I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tears spill over and run down my cheeks. It hurt more than I could have imagined—to realize that he didn't care enough to even send a message. It felt like a betrayal layered upon another betrayal.

My gaze drifted around the living room. Autumn had stayed with me until I'd finally passed out on the couch, offering comfort and distraction in equal measure. But now she was gone too, leaving me alone with my thoughts and this hollow ache in my chest.

I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand, sniffling as I tried to pull myself together. There was no use wallowing in it—though that seemed easier said than done.

Forcing myself to stand, I stumbled toward the kitchen in search of water and painkillers. The day stretched out ahead of me like an endless expanse of gray, each moment promising nothing but more heartache.

And yet somehow, life went on.

I dragged myself to the bathroom, each step feeling like a monumental effort. The hot water hissed as it cascaded from the showerhead, filling the small space with steam. I stripped off my clothes and stepped under the stream, letting the heat work its way into my muscles. It scalded my skin, but I welcomed the sensation—anything to drown out the lingering numbness.

As I scrubbed at my skin, I focused on the mechanical motions. Shampoo, rinse, conditioner. Rinse again. Therepetition brought a sliver of normalcy, a brief reprieve from the chaos in my mind.

After toweling off, I padded back to the couch and picked up my phone to text Autumn.

Hey, can I borrow some clothes? Everything of mine is... you know.

A few minutes later, a knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. Autumn stepped in, holding a small pile of neatly folded clothes. Her eyes were soft with concern.

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